A Different Time
by Fallen-Gabriel
Summary: Miles and Chris find peace. - Snippets galore! -
1. Chapter 1

Snippets - because I feel like it...

Miles' thoughts on Chris and life.

1. _Kiss_

When Miles thinks about it, really thinks, it occurs to him that they really can't. It's not because he's adverse to it, that Chris is that unsavory to look at (not that badly anymore), or that their height difference deters him from jumping on the variant and doing so. It's more that they **can't**.

It's kind of hard to when your partner is missing his lips, and even with the stitches removed from his mouth, it's still rather mottled and heavily scarred. Miles cringes when he examines his mouth, rubbing his four fingered left hand against his own lips...

2. _Strength_

Chris is huge. Well, that's a bit of an understatement. He's fucking ginormous. Miles knows this, and doesn't care. He shrugs it off and moves on with making breakfast. He wonders why his partner even bothers with weight lifting; maybe it calms him, maybe it's routine from his army days, or maybe it's just something stable for him to hold onto.

Whatever it is, Miles doesn't care. He pushes the platter of five eggs, five strips of bacon, and a small stack of buttered, jelly toast around on the table. The variant enters, ever punctual, and sits down. He thanks him in a quiet voice, and it occurs to Miles that he's strong in more than one way. He's like a boulder that shoulders both of their burdens...

3. '_Big_'

Miles sometimes shares a quiet chuckle with himself when he sees his lover fretting over his 'size'. So, he's a little chubby, big deal. He's not going to shower him with the habitual, cliche quote: "it's just more to love."

Chris is Chris, he's not going to change his habit of belting down Sprite, the occasional beer, and two hamburgers with an awfully large helping of fries anytime soon. He enjoys eating, working out, and laying face down on the couch while Miles plays video games. He enjoys watching more than participating because he's him. And Miles is pretty sure, he wouldn't have it any other way...

4. _Triple XL_

Buying the variant clothes at first was an awfully funny outing. Miles had to go by sight when first buying him pants, shirts, jackets, underwear, and even shoes (he'd secretly taken these while the bigger man was sleeping to check the size). He'd returned with several of each, spending quite a bit of money to insure the other would be comfortable.

At first, Chris had been reluctant, and had gotten into the habit of walking around in either just the boxers his possessed lover had bought him, or nothing at all. Miles 'revenge' strategy had been to jump him and tire him out... This had backfired when he couldn't sit for several weeks, and kicked the variant onto the couch until he started wearing them. He wore clothes from then on...

5. _Hands_

Chris has talons. This occurred to Miles long before he'd left the asylum, in fact, it was one of the first things he'd ever noticed about him. Now, with the variant sated, asleep, and the cover thrown over his form, he was easy prey. For examination, of course. Miles ran his fingers along the scars of his wrist, where the chains had dug in too deep, and winced.

The pads of his fingers skittered over the veins along the back of his hand, the bones of his jutting knuckles, and then - he paused when the other stirred, his fingers poised on the precipice. Chris shifted, but did not wake, and he felt the curve of those deadly nails... Miles gulped, realizing that long ago he'd been on the other end of them...

6. _Wolfen_

There's something almost... Animalistic about Chris, with his white filmed blue eyes, and sharp canines. Especially when he 'smiles', the flesh that remains around his mouth moving up, and framing the white incisors. His eyes still sometimes have that maniac glee in them, one that Miles has grown to be terrified of.

But sometimes he's different. He's not always the killer from those concrete walls that trapped the screaming damned. His face slides up in a smile that's not the one he wore there, framed by wired stitches on the sides of his mouth. His eyes appear bluer, not whiter, and the scars suddenly cease to exist...

7. _Nightmares_

Miles knows the signs of a restless night, tries to ease him into them, and he can't deny that he's afraid right before they fall asleep. Sometimes it's the war, the dark and lonely howls of Chris' comrades awakening him as well, the variant beside him wide awake. He's sweating, wide eyed, and almost always screaming. It's unnerving to think anything could scare the colossal war veteran.

And other times, it's the place they both came from, escaped from... He wakes up to find two moon like eyes trained on him, and he shivers when Chris reaches forward to touch his hair. He's always scared he won't remember, that he'll hurt him, or something worse... That he'll black out and his blood will be all over him...

8. _Bear_

Miles snorts when he hears a child declare that Chris is a 'teddy bear'. The variant glares at him, shooing the toddler away, and is silent for the rest of their outing. All he receives when asking the other what he wants at the grocery store is the occasional grunt. The ride home is equally as silent, and Miles actually goes though the trouble to scrawl down everything about his lover that reminds him of a bear.

When they get home, he actually lists them off to the veteran's dismay. _1. He's huge_. Chris grunts at this. _2._ _He snores like a whale_. The variant profusely denies this. _3. He has claws_. The large man examines his hands at this, his mottled mouth down turning in a frown. _4. He's cuddly_. Chris turns to glare at him when he says this, but Miles vaults at him, and actually sends them both tumbling to the ground. He forgets the rest of the list in favor of the fourth one.

9. _Darkness_

It's horrifying when he hears that voice, it's dark and cold and always there. It tugs at the strings of his sanity, playing him like a fiddle, and he vainly presses his hands to his ears. But he can't escape it. It's in everything, all around him, inside of him. The tears come, and just when he thinks all hope is lost, he feels the crushing force of someone's embrace. He gasps, fingers knotting in Chris' AC/DC shirt, and sobs. Later, when the variant is curled around him in a warm, strong embrace, it occurs to him that he can't hear it.

Not anymore.

10. _Winter_

It's cold, the snow at least three feet deep, and he shivers miserably. Chris had cut firewood all morning, and when the fire starts he stays near it as if for dear life. The variant laughs at him, and he sticks his tongue out at the other, cursing him for being warm blooded.

When he calls him a twig, he calls him a polar bear, and that stopped any conversation for awhile. He pulls a quilt over his shoulders, still shivering, and didn't stop till a suffocating heat encircled him. Miles sighs, muttering an apology to a gruff chuckle, and enjoys the serene warmth.

11. _Home_

Miles combs his fingers through his short, dark brown hair, gazing out the window, and idly lets his fingers play with the mug of tea before him. Chris is weeding the small herb garden in back, tending to the sheep, or milking the few cows they own. He quietly contemplates the steps he's taken since then... Since... That place. He doesn't want to think about it, but there's this nagging he knows won't go away will he does.

His gaze falls from the sunny outside to his palms... The ring finger on his left hand missing, and the index on his right. He shudders, thinking about the doctor, and gulps, willing away the memory. The loss of them doesn't hinder him, doesn't make him feel any less - not now anyway. He's in a safe place, a place people sometimes never find.

12. _Mischief_

As a child, he was a trickster, putting gum in girl's hair, sticking thumbtacks all over the teacher's chair, and cementing lockers shut in high school. Miles knows how to play a good joke, and he enjoys it. So, on a particularly 'warm' afternoon, he buys water balloons. That's right, water balloons. And he doesn't felt guilty at all when he pelts the sweaty variant as he weeds the garden.

It startles the veteran so much he falls over and covers his flank in dirt. Miles points and laughs, abandoning any hope for escape in favor of bawling with mirth. Chris, on the other hand, doesn't... And he finds himself doing laps in the woods to escape.

13. _Hunter_

Miles doesn't question why the variant sits on the porch, while he waters the random rose bush in their garden... Watching him. He feels him coming up behind him before his shadow falls over him, and he suppresses the shiver that comes up his spine.

His mouth ghosts next to his ear, a whisper skittering against his nape. "Take off your clothes..." His voice is deep in his chest, dark, and Miles is helpless to obey. It isn't till later when he's crying out on the forest floor with Chris between his legs that he realizes he can never hide.

14. _Jealousy_

Miles tries to hold a polite conversation with the blonde who'd attached herself to his arm, chatting him up on some magazine, and just manages to keep himself from jumping, when a shade falls over both of them. He gulps, looking into the burning gaze of Chris Walker, and just manages to disentangle himself from the woman. A crushing arm circles his waist, trapping him to the variant's side, and when he tells her to 'fuck off' she takes no time in doing so.

The drive home is silent, deathly so, and Chris drives... Which isn't normal. His hands rub together nervously out of habit, fingering the stumps of his fingers, and when they pull into the drive he tries to speak. Chris' glare silences him, and when they enter the house he tries again. But it's rather hard when he's ripping off his clothes, tasting his skin, and thrusting their hips together...

15. _Brilliant_

Chris is rather large, but that doesn't make him stupid. He's not very book smart, preferring to learn from experience, trial and error. But he's good at that. He's got more patience than most people Miles used to know. He reads the paper on farming tips, sure, but he also tries to improve upon what he reads - what little he does.

He's smart in another way to. Miles has yet to win at chess. Ever. If there's a time he's won, he doesn't remember it. And the prize is always the same, Chris grinning before a match has begun, and he's forced to endure what he knows is coming. When checkmate comes, he's not surprised, but he is about how quickly the variant moves him from the table to the bedroom.

M~C

First part! I promise I'm planning on a chapter story, but I'm lazy - so here are snippets! There's going to be a second part from Chris's perspective.


	2. Chapter 2

More snippets! Because I still feel like it... Think of this as a sequel.

Chris' thoughts on Miles and life.

1. _Kiss_

He knows they can't, it's rather obvious why, and he knows - he can feel when the human looks at him. He wouldn't call it longing, or pity, maybe it was sympathy? Chris waits for him for awhile, baits himself to sit and wait. When Miles walks in the front door he's startled to find the variant waiting for him. The chapped flesh around his mouth is anything but even, it's scarred and stretched, and he knows he doesn't deserve to. But he does, he lifts the smaller man, and presses their mouths together.

At first, it's lopsided and wrong, but they find something - or, really, Miles does when he tries to pull away. Their tongues meet and they groan in unison, tasting, devouring, eating one another alive because it's not perfect, but it's enough.

2. _Small_

Chris bends his elbow, lifts the hundred pound dumb bell as if it were easy, and it is... He pauses, turning his head, and watches Miles move around the kitchen. He's wearing cut off shorts that are just above his knee, and a tank top. He's little, with his lean, athletic build, and his tanish skin. To most men, Miles is tall, with a nice body, and an even nicer face. But to him, he's short...he's weak.

Chris stands, entering the kitchen, and seats himself to eat. He thanks him in a quick, quiet way. And he watches him, taking him in it seems, and Walker can't help himself, he pulls him into his lap. Breakfast can wait.

3. _Worry_

He fidgets, staring at himself sideways in the mirror, frowning, and tries to remember when he'd gotten this way. In that place, he'd had very little access to equipment, and although he'd lost some weight, there was no way he'd ever get rid of all of it. Not with his eating habits anyway...

Miles appears in the doorway, giving a silent smile, and walks over to him. He wraps his arms - as best he can - around the broad chest of the variant, and places a kiss over the right side. Then he starts moving down, his nails digging in to his thick hide, and Chris grunts when he starts unfastening his pants. Miles spends the rest of the afternoon showing him that he doesn't care.

4. _Lonely_

Chris grumbles, laying on his back, staring at the ceiling, and throws the cover off himself. He's wearing the boxers Miles bought him, forbidden to walk around naked anymore, least his sentence to the dismal couch be prolonged. He flips on the tv, cursing the cable when all that comes through is static, and shuts it off. He lays there for hours, tossing and turning, and only stops when he hears the bedroom door open.

Miles is staring at him from the door way, looking little as always, and inhales sharply. "You can...come back, it's a little cold." He stands, almost pausing because he doesn't want to appear eager, but he enters the bedroom to find the smaller man curled up. The fear in his eyes makes him encircle him immediately, pressing his marred mouth to his forehead.

5. _Delicate_

Miles' skin is soft, well, compared to his it is. He watches him as he sleeps, the pads of his fingers skittering across the flesh of his hip, down to his thigh. Chris doesn't think about it, tries to ignore his deadly talons in favor of just touching. The skin yields, dipping around his digits, and Miles stirs.

He pauses, the ends of his nails poised over the bone of his hip, and he turns over to lie on his back. This exposes new areas to touch, his hand gliding now over the lean muscles of his stomach, and the perfect ones of his chest...

6. _Human_

He's his. Whether or not Miles knows this doesn't matter, all that does is that he knows. He's his. From his dark, chocolate locks, to those light, green tinged brown irises, his perfect hips, and lean legs. He even has dainty feet... Well, at least he thinks so.

Miles likes to smile, this is no secret to Chris, and it's even less of a secret to the people they meet in town. Whenever they go to purchase something, he's always find a way to laugh, or even to grin. It spreads from his lips to the rest of his face, highlighting the green in his eyes. And in those moments - Chris grins - he wants to fuck his brains out.

7. _Memories_

They haunt him in the dead of night, the eerie cries that he just can't escape. He remembers, lying on his back in the tunnel that was a grave for his comrades, the occasional gun fire making him jump, and the ragged cries of a friend tear him from the sanctuary of unconsciousness. Some of them can't do it, they won't do it... So he does it for them. He slides his combat knife over their neck because they can't live... They can't move without their legs and their guts. They just can't.

He wakes, screaming, and then Miles is holding him, pressing his perfect lips to that eye in his forehead. He's kissing and rubbing the mottled flesh of his face, rubbing his cool fingers over his arms, over his scars, and he clutches him like a child.

8. _Fluffy_

Chris doesn't think such a word applies to him after he saves the child's stuffed toy from a tree. He calls him something sweet, something that he definitely is not, and he glares at Miles when he almost laughs beside him. For the rest of the afternoon he broods - because 'pouting' does NOT apply to him - and when Miles starts reading off that list, he wants to hide in a hole.

The first one is obvious, the second embarrasses him, the third makes him self conscious, and the fourth is a lie! Miles doesn't seem to agree when he vaults at him and abandons his notebook.

9. _Light_

He walks back into the house, sits down the bag of groceries, and grumbles. He's bought three big tubs of peanut butter, since Miles forgot, and tries to banish the thought of the other laughing at him for craving the stuff so badly. But it's cold, the house is cold, and he knows his human is probably freezing. He walks into the bedroom, bracing himself, and sees the dark cloud forming around him. His eyes are shut tight, hands pressed over his ears, and it takes Chris two seconds to span the distance between them.

He crushes him to his chest, and the darkness dissipates when Miles wraps his lean arms around him. He's sobbing and pulls feebly at him to join him in bed, so, he does. Chris presses his mottled mouth to his forehead, tightly wrapped around him.

10. _Cold_

Miles hates the cold. Chris laughs at this, chopping wood in a short sleeve t shirt, and enjoys the thick frost that accumulates up to his knees. When he enters the house, he finds his human in a shirt, sweater, jogging pants, and with a blanket pulled snuggly over his shoulders. They insult each other as he starts the fire, silence following for a long time after.

Later, when Miles is still shivering by the fire, Chris pulls him into his lap and wraps around him. A muffled apology is all the variant needs before he's tasting skin, and burning every noise the human makes into his mind forever.

11. _Peace_

Chris didn't think such a thing was possible, his form covered in a light sweat as he weeded the garden, pausing only when a cloud eclipsed the sun. He looks up, narrowing his white filmed eyes on the sight before him, before leaning back down to continue with his work. A warm summer breeze dashes by, blasting his form, and he inhales the air sharply. It's warm here, serene, and more than he ever hoped for in his entire life. Sometimes, he actually stops and waits for something to shatter the day... A bomb, a black car with strange men, or...something.

But as he walks inside, he realizes such a thing is not coming - not ever. And no matter how much Miles protests that the dinner table is made for eating, he still thinks there's no better spot to fuck him in. Especially when he looks so damn perfect...

12. _Trickster_

He knows Miles can be a little... Childish. Still, he's not prepared when the water hits his face, leaving bits of balloon on his mottled flesh, and he falls over in shock. He lays there for a second, blinking, turning his head to see his human pointing as well as laughing, clutching his side with his other hand. And in that moment, he's beautiful, and perfect, and then Chris remembers. **Mine**.

He rises, slowly, and Miles stops, eyes growing wide. The chase is better, watching him flee through the woods, but Chris is smart. He heads him off and catches him, seating himself between his legs and breathing him in. He's panting in his ear, whining for more as he teases him, licking and biting, and drinking in all he has to offer. Chris pushes himself into his burning, constricting channel, and he realizes he's never felt anything so wonderful.

13. _Prey_

Miles stands in the garden, dirt on one of his cheeks, sweat on his abdomen, and shorts on - exposing his lean, strong legs. His hair is ruffled, color high in his cheeks, and Chris watches. He's seated on their porch, coke forgotten on the table next to him, and his eyes just take him in. Miles belongs to him. He rises, taking his time, and comes up behind him.

When he tells him to run, Miles wastes no time and does so, bare and burning. Chris is slow, he removes his shirt, his socks, his boots, everything has to go. When he has his thighs around his hips, back arching, and neck exposed, Chris knows perfection. He feels it around him, bringing him closer to that abyss, and he knows now that he can't live without this...

14. _Possessive_

Miles is handsome, any fool could see that, especially with his body. So when he sees the woman wrapped around his arm, talking to him, smells her scent and knows what she wants to do with his human... He descends on both of them, wrapping an arm around Miles and tells her to: "fuck the hell off bitch." She does... No questions asked.

He practically drags him to the car, shoving him inside, and drives them both home. Miles tries to calm him down, reaches for him, but he growls. He's angry, too angry, and he doesn't want to snap on him. When they reach home and are safely behind the door he regulates his fury to something else entirely. The cloth of his shirt and pants yields, his marred mouth moving down the column of his throat, down his chest... This is his, no one else can hear these cries, taste this flesh, or take him. No one.

15. _Quirks_

He knows now why he entered that place in the dead of night, his 'duty' to society dragging him head long into trouble. Chris doesn't care now, but there's something about his lover that he finds wonderfully... Well, he searches for the word - adorable. That's it. It doesn't sound right in HIS head, but that's the best way to describe it.

It seems that even missing two fingers, even with the Walrider inside of him, and even after almost losing his sanity... He still finds time to scrawl things in his little notebook, he writes down things he needs to remember, words he hears in public and doesn't know, and the ever changing grocery list...

M~C

I might write more - note, this was written on my tablet, and has no real editing. XD


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